An Old-fashioned Girl by Louisa M. Alcott

her mind, and you meant to go then. Come, now, what is it?”

“I shan’t tell you; but I ‘m not going,” was Polly’s determined

answer.

“Well, I did think you had more sense than most girls; but you

have n’t, and I would n’t give a sixpence for you.”

“That ‘s polite,” said Polly, getting ruffled.

“Well, I hate cowards.”

“I ain’t a coward.”

“Yes, you are. You ‘re afraid of what folks will say; ain’t you,

now?”

Polly knew she was, and held her peace, though she longed to

speak; but how could she?

“Ah, I knew you ‘d back out.” And Tom walked away with an air of

scorn that cut Polly to the heart.

“It ‘s too bad! Just as he was growing kind to me, and I was going

to have a good time, it ‘s all spoilt by Fan’s nonsense. Mrs. Shaw

don’t like it, nor grandma either, I dare say. There ‘ll be a fuss if I

go, and Fan will plague me; so I ‘ll give it up, and let Tom think I

‘m afraid. Oh, dear! I never did see such ridiculous people.”

Polly shut her door hard, and felt ready to cry with vexation, that

her pleasure should be spoilt by such a silly idea; for, of all the

silly freaks of this fast age, that of little people playing at love is

about the silliest. Polly had been taught that it was a very serious

and sacred thing; and, according to her notions, it was far more

improper to flirt with one boy than to coast with a dozen. She had

been much amazed, only the day before, to hear Maud say to her

mother, “Mamma, must I have a beau? The girls all do, and say I

ought to have Fweddy Lovell; but I don’t like him as well as Hawry

Fiske.”

“Oh, yes; I ‘d have a little sweetheart, dear, it ‘s so cunning,”

answered Mrs. Shaw. And Maud announced soon after that she

was engaged to “Fweddy, ’cause Hawry slapped her” when she

proposed the match.

Polly laughed with the rest at the time; but when she thought of it

afterward, and wondered what her own mother would have said, if

little Kitty had put such a question, she did n’t find it cunning or

funny, but ridiculous and unnatural. She felt so now about herself;

and when her first petulance was over, resolved to give up coasting

and everything else, rather than have any nonsense with Tom, who,

thanks to his neglected education, was as ignorant as herself of the

charms of this new amusement for school-children. So Polly tried

to console herself by jumping rope in the back-yard, and playing

tag with Maud in the drying-room, where she likewise gave

lessons in “nas-gim-nics,” as Maud called it, which did that little

person good. Fanny came up sometimes to teach them a new

dancing step, and more than once was betrayed into a game of

romps, for which she was none the worse. But Tom turned a cold

shoulder to Polly, and made it evident, by his cavalier manner that

he really did n’t think her “worth a sixpence.”

Another thing that troubled Polly was her clothes, for, though no

one said anything, she knew they were very plain; and now and

then she wished that her blue and mouse colored merinos were

rather more trimmed, her sashes had bigger bows, and her little

ruffles more lace on them. She sighed for a locket, and, for the

first time in her life, thought seriously of turning up her pretty

curls and putting on a “wad.” She kept these discontents to herself,

however, after she had written to ask her mother if she might have

her best dress altered like Fanny’s, and received this reply: “No,

dear; the dress is proper and becoming as it is, and the old fashion

of simplicity the best for all of us. I don’t want my Polly to be

loved for her clothes, but for herself; so wear the plain frocks

mother took such pleasure in making for you, and let the panniers

go. The least of us have some influence in this big world; and

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